


so very infinite (or, through the looking-glass)

by misato



Category: Black Mirror, Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)
Genre: Board Games, Choose Your Own Ending, Colin's Funeral, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, My Characters Now, Parallel Universes, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 17:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17430212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: He’s only known Colin for a day and a half, but it feels so non-linear, so very infinite.





	so very infinite (or, through the looking-glass)

**Author's Note:**

> or, the one where colin calls stefan a twink

Stefan wakes to the smell of breakfast and the sound of something crackling in a pan. He’s in someone’s bed. He doesn’t think they’ve slept together, because he’s still got his sneakers on.

“Colin?” he calls out, hoarse and half asleep.

His throat is dry. He rolls out of bed and trudges to the kitchen. Colin’s smoking a joint and cooking at the stove.

“Morning,” Stefan says, and Colin nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Christ,” he says. “I thought you might be dead. You’re a heavy sleeper.”

“Yeah,” Stefan says, thinking of Colin flinging himself over the balcony.

It must have been a vivid dream, he decides.

Colin pushes a tall glass of water across the counter and nods in Stefan’s direction. When Stefan doesn’t move, he plucks the joint from his lips and blows out smoke.

“Drink up,” he says. “You were freaking out last night. Bad trip, eh?”

“I guess,” Stefan says slowly.

“You’re heavier than you look, y’know. I had to carry you from the couch to the bed. Bridal-style.”

Stefan blushes, and then remembers.

“Where’s Kitty? And the baby?”

“Who?” Colin says. “Oh, I meant to ask. How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled.”

Colin makes a face.

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” he says “Scrambled eggs, coming right up for Tuckersoft’s newest twink.”

“Good Lord,” Stefan laughs.

***

_“Good Lord, we come to You today in deepest grief,” the pastor says, and Stefan finds himself sitting in a crowd of strangers._

_Most of them are dressed in suits and ties, some all in black, some in T-shirts advertising Colin’s games. The casket is closed. Stefan thinks back to the sickening smack he heard when Colin jumped and decides that it’s probably for the best._ _  
_ _He hears a baby wailing, and cranes his neck to see Kitty sitting at the edge of the front row. She’s holding Pearl tightly in her arms. Her hair is frazzled, and she keeps shushing the baby, which only makes her cry louder._

_The pastor is still leading the prayer, and Stefan bows his head, to be polite._

_Then he realizes he’s still wearing his sneakers._

***

“Hey,” Colin says, snapping his fingers in front of Stefan’s face. “You all there, mate?”

“What?” Stefan says.

“You got this dazed look on your face for a minute, and then your head dropped, like that.” Colin bows his head to demonstrate, then pops it back up, squinting at him through his wire-rimmed glasses. “I know drugs fry your brain, but they don’t _scramble_ them.”

Stefan laughs.

“I’m alright. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Get some food in you, you’ll feel better,” Colin says cheerily, and hands him a plate of eggs. “And drink that water. All of it.”

Stefan sets the plate on the kitchen counter and leans against it. He gulps the water and starts wolfing down the eggs.

“You’d think they don’t feed you at home,” Colin comments, taking another drag, and blowing smoke at the ceiling.

“No,” Stefan says. “I’m just hungry. And it’s good. You’re a good cook.”

“You flatter me.”

“Really, you are.”

“If they’d pay me as much to scramble eggs as they do to code games, don’t you think I’d do it in a heartbeat?”

“No,” Stefan says. “You wouldn’t. I wouldn’t either. You aren’t in it for the money.”

“You think too much of me,” Colin laughs, and blows smoke in his face. “I’m in it for the money and the drugs and the fame and the sex. Not a genuine bone in my body.”

“I don’t think so,” Stefan says, and scrapes the last bite of eggs onto his fork.

“You’re an idealistic little shit,” Colin says, with something like warmth in his voice. “Tuckersoft’ll be the death of you.”

“That’s why I told them no.”

“Right. You want to work by yourself. Tell me, Stefan, doesn’t that get lonely?”

***

_“It’s so lonely,” Kitty sobs. “Pearl doesn’t have a father.”_

_The crowd nods, sympathetic. Something like guilt swirls in Stefan’s stomach. He told Colin to jump, didn’t he? Didn’t he? And yet he still gets to sit around in some parallel universe, one where Colin makes him eggs and calls him pretty, while his wife and daughter get the short end of the stick._

_Horrible anxieties and urges to confess fill his mind, and Stefan shakes his head, as if that will clear the thoughts._

***

“No?”

“Huh?”

“You shook your head no,” Colin says, like he’s a schoolteacher and Stefan’s a dimwitted child.

“Yeah,” Stefan says. “I mean, no. I mean, it doesn’t get lonely. I’m alone a lot of the time.”

“Not right now,” Colin says. “I’m right here.”

***

_“But even if he’s gone,” Kitty says, her voice trembling. “He’s still right here.”_

_She touches her chest._

***

“Thank you for breakfast,” Stefan says, stumbling from the chair. “I’d better get going. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” Colin says. “I like having you around.”

Stefan feels himself blush.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Stay a while longer. We can play a game, if you like.”

“Which one?”

Stefan quickly thinks through the different video game titles that he’s released, unable to choose just one favorite, but Colin just grins at the look on his face, like he knows what Stefan’s thinking.

“Actually, I was thinking Scrabble.”

Stefan shrugs and smiles.

The two of them sit on Colin’s bed and play the game, clicking tiles together and stringing together words. It turns out Colin likes playing nonsense words, or maybe he just can’t spell and he’s really aggressive about denying it.

“T-O-V-E-S is not a word,” Stefan teases, picking up the V tile and tossing it back at him playfully. “You just want 4 points for the V.”

“Is too,” Colin says. “‘Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe.”

“You’re nuts,” Stefan says, shaking his head, but he lets him put the piece back where it was.

“I’m not nuts, I’m literate. Read your source material.”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll read it to you if you like,” Colin says. “I’m not your mum, but I don’t mind a little bit of storytime every once in a mile.”

An image of his mother’s train crashing flashes into Stefan’s head, and then one of Colin leaping to his death. It was his fault that time too, he realizes. It’s his own fault both of them are dead.

***

_The sky is grey, the headstone is grey, the umbrellas are grey, and Kitty’s hair is bright orange. It’s raining. The casket is in the ground now. Colin is several feet deep beneath their feet._

_Stefan feels himself cry -- a bitter sob that starts from deep within him and resonates from the inside out._

***

“Hey,” Colin says gently, and he’s brushing the tears from Stefan’s face before he’s even reached full consciousness. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

Stefan’s wrapped in his arms and he forces himself out of the embrace much too quickly. The pieces slide everywhere and the game board topples off the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I ruined the game.”

“It’s fine. Who cares about a bloody game? I care about you.”

Stefan feels like his whole body might give out.

“Okay,” he says. “You were winning, y'know.”

“I know,” Colin says, and kisses him.

He's all gross from crying, his cheeks red and nose dripping, but Colin kisses him anyway. There's teeth and tongue and he tastes like weed and something sweet. Colin knows how and where to bite, how to make the temporary pain rush deep and hit hard where it counts. Stefan keeps up with Colin’s desperate pace, taking his lower lip into his mouth and sucking hard. He can taste fruity chapstick and Colin whimpers. Stefan pulls back and stares at Colin as if the other man might melt away in his hands at any moment.

“You may not know jack shit about literature,” Colin says, breathless. “But you _definitely_ know how to kiss.”

“Can I do it again?” Stefan asks shyly.

“Yes,” Colin says, as if he’s gone mad, and he surges forward, pushing Stefan onto the unmade bed.

His shirt rides up and leftover Scrabble tiles are digging into his lower back but he couldn’t really care less because it’s _Colin_ , and he is everywhere all at once. He gasps out as Colin bites his neck, tugs at his hair, pulls on his earlobe with his teeth.

Stefan’s delirious with want. He really, really wants Colin to fuck him, but all he’s ever taken are a couple of his fingers in the shower when his dad’s out of the house and he hasn’t even washed up this morning. It’d be too much anyway. Too good to be true. He’d wake up aching in his bed at home with Colin six feet under.

But Colin feels real and warm and hard against his thigh and Stefan decided that this universe is much too kind to him. He takes advantage of that kindness.

“Can I touch you?” he says.

“Yeah,” Colin says, nodding and tugging his cock from his pants. “Sweet of you to ask.”

“Why wouldn’t I ask?” Stefan argues.

“Most people prefer to take what they want,” Colin says. “You’re the only man I’ve met who wants to give.”

Stefan remembers telling him to jump, remembers taking what he wanted out of fear, and swallows the truth. He slicks his hand with spit and jerks the other man off tentatively, letting their mouths brush together. Colin’s breath ghosts ragged against the side of his cheek.

“You can go a little rougher than that. I’m not going to break,” Colin says, amused.

Stefan thinks about Colin’s body breaking on the way down from the balcony.

He blinks and stares at the very much alive man in front of him, who stares back. Then he moves faster, harder, rougher, giving Colin exactly what he wants until he gasps and begs for more. Because that’s the whole thing with him, isn’t it? Immediate satisfaction, enemies dying in an instant, ten-second snap decisions, mind-blowing orgasms, artificial love. He’s only known Colin for a day and a half, but it feels so non-linear, so very infinite.

Then Colin moans deeply and cums all over his hand. Stefan lifts his fingers to his lips and tastes it, sucking his fingers clean. Suddenly Colin looks at him like he’s beautiful and lovely and not some random guy who he’s just met in a stuffy office building just recently.

“I can use my mouth, if you like.”

“Huh?”

“It’s your turn, Stefan. What do _you_ want?”

***

 **Fantasy**  or **Reality**

*******

Colin’s mouth is wonderful and warm and he’s very, very good at whatever he’s doing with his tongue. He stares up at Stefan with hollowed cheeks, lips wrapped around the base of his cock, and bobs up and down.

“ _Christ_ , Colin,” Stefan says, and the words rush out in a breathy sigh.

Colin pulls off his cock and strokes it roughly in his hand.

“Do it on my face, love.”

Stefan finishes embarrassingly quick after he says that. His cum drips over Colin’s cheek and onto the sheets and Stefan flushes red.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Colin laughs and swipes a finger through the mess on his face.

“Let’s wash up,” he says, sitting up.

“‘M sleepy,” Stefan yawns, flopping onto the pillows, and pulls at Colin’s T-shirt so that he’ll come back to bed.

“You _came_ on my _face_ , you wanker. I’ll only be a moment.”

“Just c’mere,” Stefan says, and Colin laughs.

“Okay,” he says, curling up next to Stefan and wrapping his arms around him. “I love you.”

Stefan isn’t sure he’s heard him right.

“What?”

Colin puffs out a breathy little laugh.

“Sorry. Let’s get some sleep.”

***

_Stefan shakes the rain from his umbrella and steps inside the house, kicking his muddy shoes off._

_“You went to the funeral then?” his father says._

_He stubs out a cigarette in the ashtray._

_“Yes,” Stefan says, trying to remember exactly how he got home._

_His hair isn’t even a little wet. His mouth has a taste in it that he doesn’t recognize._

_“Was it alright? I know you haven’t been to one since your mother…”_

_“It was fine,” Stefan says quickly. “I’m fine. I’m going to go work on Bandersnatch for a bit.”_

_“Okay. I love you.”_

_The voice that he hears is not his father’s and he stops in his tracks._

_“What?” he says._

_“I said I love you, kid,” his dad says. “Maybe you should get some sleep.”_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks 4 reading this shit lol


End file.
